


Tight Spaces

by hawksonfire



Series: Clint Barton Bingo 2019 [12]
Category: Marvel
Genre: Begging, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Clint Cries a Little Bit, Coming In Pants, Coming Untouched, Dom Bucky Barnes, Dom/sub Undertones, Dry Humping, Gag mention, Hand & Finger Kink, Hand Jobs, M/M, POV Clint Barton, Running from the police, Semi-Public Sex, Sub Clint Barton, Top Bucky Barnes, Unapologetically Kinky Clint Barton, Under-negotiated Kink, light humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 14:17:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18874897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawksonfire/pseuds/hawksonfire
Summary: Clint knew that parkouring into, through, and out of the police precinct parking lot with Bucky was a bad idea - so of course, he did it anyway.The way the police chase turned out, though - he might have to send the cops a fruit basket or something.





	Tight Spaces

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Clint Barton Bingo Square I3 - Police.
> 
> thanks to the bad decisions discord buddy who sprinted me through this! and also thanks, for trying to help me find that kink.

**Clint**

“Come on, they’re gaining on us!” Clint vaults over a fence, just barely clearing the pointed spikes at the top and keeps running. 

“They wouldn’t be gaining on us if you hadn’t stopped to admire the dog!” Bucky shouts, easily keeping pace with Clint. And he’s not even out of breath, that’s so unfair.

“But, Bucky,” Clint whines, “It was  _ smiling _ at me! I couldn’t just keep running.”

“Sure you could,” Bucky disagrees, “That’s why you have legs.” Clint clears a fire hydrant, a smile growing on his face as he runs. 

Sure -  _ technically _ parkouring into, through, and out of the police precinct’s parking lot was illegal, and  _ technically _ they could go to jail for doing exactly that. But that’s only if they get caught. He chances a look behind him and sees that the two cops chasing him and Bucky are (unfortunately for Clint and Bucky) in really good shape and following them rather well. “You wanna split up, give ‘em a run for their money?” Clint offers.

Bucky grins at him, already veering away. “Thought you’d never ask.” He races away, vanishing down a side street and Clint keeps running straight ahead, darting around civilians and bouncing off walls. 

“Stop!” The cop shouts from behind him - and he sounds awfully close, now that Clint thinks about it. He chances another look behind him and yelps, putting on a burst of speed just in time to avoid being grabbed by the hood of his sweater. 

“Aw, c’mon, you don’t want our fun to be over that fast, do you?” Clint shouts, tossing a wink over his shoulder. The cop doesn’t respond, just keeps chasing him, and Clint rolls his eyes. “Spoilsport,” he pouts. He rounds a corner and is immediately yanked into a small alcove, pressed up against a brick wall with a hand over his mouth.

“It’s me,” Bucky’s voice says, and all the fight drains out of Clint.  He leans against the wall and tries to control his breathing. The cop that was chasing Clint speeds past their hiding spot without stopping and the sound of his footsteps grow faint as he speeds away. A grin appears on Clint’s face and he looks up to see a matching one on Bucky’s, albeit subdued. He opens his mouth to say something but Bucky puts a finger over his lips, listening intently. “They’re still at the end of the alley,” he whispers.

Clint is having a very difficult time focusing on Bucky’s  _ words _ with Bucky’s  _ finger _ pressed against his mouth. He’s managed to ignore his tiny (fucking massive) crush on Bucky for this long but being in an enclosed space with the man, practically pressed flush up against his ridiculously attractive body is giving Clint some issues of the downstairs variety. 

He frantically tries to think about anything other than the warmth of Bucky hand on his face and the line of his thighs in between Clint’s legs and - fuck. Clint sighs internally and prepares himself to blame his current predicament on the adrenaline of the parkour and the ensuing chase. 

Bucky’s finger is removed from his mouth and Clint blinks, finding Bucky staring at him intently. Despite his best efforts, Clint’s gaze flicks to Bucky’s lips then back up to his eyes, a blush already rising on his cheeks as he tries to come up with an explanation. “See somethin’ you like, doll?” Bucky purrs quietly, and the gravelly rumble of his voice is doing  _ unfair _ things to Clint’s pants situation.

“Can’t see much of anything in this light,” Clint babbles desperately, “Honestly it’s sorta like being in a basement and under a bed at the same time, you know? Like, I know I have good eyesight, better than most people’s, anyway - sidebar; do you think my eyesight’s better than yours? I mean, I’m not enhanced in any way, shape, or form, but it’s sorta weird how sometimes - What?”

Bucky’s staring at him with an expression that Clint would call fond exasperation if it was on Natasha’s face - fuck. Bucky trained Natasha, so they probably have the same ‘god I love this idiot but if he doesn’t stop talking soon I’m going to stab him in the throat’ face. “Exactly my thoughts, doll,” Bucky says. 

“Aw, did I say all that out loud?” Clint whines, “Brain, no.”

“Clint.” He looks up at Bucky questioningly. “I’m going to need you to stop talking now.” Clint opens his mouth but Bucky puts his  _ goddamn finger _ over it again, and Clint’s mind honestly blanks. Bucky shifts on his feet and his tree trunk of a thigh brushes against Clint’s  _ situation _ \- and honestly, if Clint wasn’t already mostly hard before, he sure as shit is now.

He stifles a groan that comes out more like a sigh, and Bucky’s finger presses down on his lips. Clint wants to lick him. All of him. Repeatedly.

“Coast’s clear,” Bucky says, pulling his finger away before Clint can do something monumentally stupid, “We can probably leave now.”

“Probably,” Clint agrees, but he makes no move to leave because one, Bucky is basically pinning him in place so even if Clint  _ wanted _ to move, he wouldn’t be able to. And two, if they leave this dark little hole, Clint’s  _ situation _ will become much more apparent, and he really doesn’t want to spend probably a dumb amount of time blabbering excuses and what not. Has Bucky always been that close to him?

“What’s going on in that mind of yours?” Bucky asks, his breath ghosting over Clint’s face. Clint valiantly holds in a whimper.

“Just thinking,” he says quickly, “What if they’re waiting for us around the corner?”

“They’re not,” Bucky says. “Woulda heard ‘em.” He’s definitely closer than he was two seconds ago and Clint doesn’t know what to do.

“Okay, but what if -” He’s cut off by Bucky pressing his mouth to Clint’s and Clint is in shock for like two whole seconds before he starts reciprocating. It’s a pretty good kiss, all things considering. Something’s digging into Clint’s back and Bucky can’t seem to fit his hand behind Clint’s head likes he wants to, but - Clint moans into Bucky’s mouth as Bucky presses forwards again, thigh pressing firmly into Clint’s (now hard enough to punch a hole in a wall) dick and sending sparks up his spine.

Clint tosses his head back against the wall, gasping, and Bucky pulls away - well, away being like, two inches further than he was when he kissed Clint. “What’s wrong, are you hurt? Did I hurt you?”

And that just about breaks Clint’s damn heart. Bucky is so damn  _ careful _ to not touch anybody with that gorgeous metal arm of his, always keeping it close to his body and never,  _ ever _ , letting anyone else even get within half a foot of it. “Pretty much the opposite,” Clint says, keeping his eyes glued onto a faintly darker patch of brick above him and counting to thirty.

“What? Clint, I don’t - oh.” He can  _ hear _ the smirk in Bucky’s voice as the other man crowds close to him again. Clint looks at Bucky just in time to catch his eyes flicking back up from Clint’s crotch - and if he can see the tent in his pants, Bucky  _ definitely _ can. “That for me?”  _ Christ _ , that purr should be illegal. 

“Like ninety-nine percent of it is,” Clint says. Bucky raises an eyebrow at him and Clint shrugs apologetically. “A good chase always gets me going. Sorry,” even though he really isn’t. It got him here, didn’t it?

“Well, guess I have to try harder then,” Bucky says lowly, and then he wedges his thigh in between Clint’s legs and pushes up, making Clint’s eyes nearly roll back in his head. 

“You keep that up,” Clint gasps, unable to keep himself from chasing the delicious friction Bucky’s thigh is giving him, “This’ll be over before it starts.”

“I think it’d be fun watching you walk back to the Tower after I make you come in your pants,” Bucky says conversationally, and Clint just about  _ dies _ . He lets out a high-pitched squeak that, in any other circumstance, he would blame on a mouse, and lets his head fall forwards into the crook of Bucky’s shoulder - the metal one, which he only notices because Bucky tenses slightly when his head lands. 

“That’s - that’s mean,” Clint says breathlessly.

“I think you want me to be mean to you,” Bucky says, and Clint whimpers. “After all, you are humping my leg right now, Clint.”

The  _ zing _ of humiliation that shoots through Clint at Bucky’s words makes him groan and he desperately tries to keep his hips from rutting against Bucky’s leg. “Bucky, please,” he breathes, and it’s  _ this _ close to begging - and Clint doesn’t beg. 

Trying to even the playing field, Clint wiggles his hand in between their bodies and tries to slip it into Bucky’s pants. Bucky clucks his tongue and pushes Clint’s hand back against the wall like it’s  _ nothing _ , like Clint’s not a world-renowned assassin. “I didn’t say you could do that,” Bucky says, disappointment clear in his voice. 

Clint whines at the sound. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean - I just wanted to -”

“You’re not supposed to want right now, Clint,” Bucky says gently, but there’s something in his voice that is hitting  _ all _ of Clint’s buttons (including a few he didn’t even know he had), “You’re just supposed to let me take care of you. Can you do that for me? Can you let me take care of you?”

Clint moans loudly, but Bucky leans in and swallows the noises he’s making, kissing Clint within an inch of his life and Clint doesn’t know where to focus - on his cock that’s so hard, it’s painful? On the not- _ quite _ -enough pressure of Bucky’s thigh? On Bucky’s mouth against his? On Bucky’s hand on his wrist, pinning it to the wall? It’s all so much and Clint justs wants some  _ relief _ . 

He sobs into Bucky’s mouth, and apparently that’s what Bucky was waiting for because he takes his  _ metal fucking hand _ and undoes Clint’s pants, pulling his dick out gently. And at the first touch of cool metal against his overheated cock Clint groans so loudly that not even Bucky’s mouth can swallow the whole sound and they both freeze, panting into each other’s mouths while they wait to see if anyone heard. 

“I think I’ll gag you next time,” Bucky mutters against Clint’s lips - and Clint bites down so hard on his bottom lip that he tastes blood because  _ fuck _ , the idea of being completely at Bucky’s mercy is stupidly appealing to him. He probably has a bit of a thing for losing control, now that he thinks about it. Or maybe he just has a thing for Bucky.

“Please -” Clint moans, tears leaking out of the corner of his eyes, “Bucky,  _ please _ -”

“It’s alright, I got you,” Bucky soothes, and he  _ finally _ starts moving his hand on Clint’s cock, firmly but slowly, and Clint comes with a strangled gasp only two strokes later - and he should probably be embarrassed by that, but he can’t even  _ think _ right now.

His vision whites out and he slumps against the wall, Bucky’s thigh between his legs the only thing holding him up. “There you go,” Bucky says into Clint’s ear softly, “That wasn’t so hard, was it? All you had to do was let me take care of you.”

Clint twitches feebly in Bucky’s grasp, chest heaving and cheeks flushed. “Holy shit, Bucky,” he says hoarsely, “Didn’t know you had that in you.”

“Well,” Bucky says slyly, and Clint is already regretting saying anything at all, “Technically, it wasn’t in me.” He strokes Clint once more, kissing him to swallow his cry at the overstimulation. 

“Want me to return the favour?” Clint offers, already trying to figure out a way he can blow Bucky without leaving their little cubby.  Bucky turns pink. “No way,” Clint says incredulously, straining his neck to glance down and - yep. There’s a  _ barely visible  _ stain on the front of Bucky’s pants. “And you said I was gonna walk back with come in my pants,” he teases.

Bucky raises an eyebrow. “Who said you won’t?” And Clint looks down to see his briefs pulled up over his spent cock, come already sinking into the fabric and spreading - and Clint just  _ knows _ that when he pulls his pants up, the stain will sink into those too.

Gaping, Clint looks at Bucky to find him smirking, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Bastard,” Clint grumbles, resigning himself to an uncomfortable walk back to the Tower. 

Bucky clucks his tongue again. “Guess I really will have to gag you next time,” he says, and despite being nowhere  _ near _ ready for a second round, Clint’s dick twitches in his mess and he has to stifle a moan - but if the way Bucky’s looking at him is any indication, he doesn’t do a very good job. 

It takes some creative movements, but they manage to escape the tiny alcove - and looking at it from the outside, Clint  _ really _ does not understand how both he and Bucky fit in there,  _ or _ how they managed to do what they did. “C’mon,” Clint grimaces, “I’m starting to chafe.” He heads out of the alley and starts walking back to the Tower silently, almost zoning out when metal fingers brush against his. 

Without really thinking about it, he wraps his hand around Bucky’s, entwining their fingers. Bucky sucks in a gasp and Clint looks at him concerned. “It... it really doesn’t bother you?” Bucky asks, biting on his lip. 

Clint looks down at their hands. “Bucky, I had your hand around my dick not five minutes ago,” he says, “I sure as hell don’t mind holding it.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Bucky says, frustrated. 

“I know,” Clint says easily, “But the answer is the same. It doesn’t bother me. It’s just an arm.”

“An arm that’s killed people,” Bucky objects. 

“So have mine,” Clint says, and that seems to stop Bucky cold. “My arms have killed people, my left leg has killed people - I have killed people, Bucky. Just because it’s dangerous doesn’t mean it’s not yours.” Bucky is silent for the rest of the walk back, but Clint doesn’t take it personally. They arrive in front of his room and Clint turns to face Bucky. Pressing a kiss to his cheek, he says, “Come to my rooms after you shower if you want, yeah? I’d like to actually get a glimpse of your dick this time.”

Bucky laughs at him and walks away - and if there’s a lump in Clint’s throat when he notices Bucky’s walking looser than he normally does, metal arm swinging at his side, well. 

He chooses to blame it on discomfort. He is walking around with a load of sperm in his pants, after all.


End file.
